


Following the map that leads to you

by newtmasdoesthedo



Series: If I don't see you on the other side, remember that I love you [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Rimming, Thomas/Newt/Minho - Freeform, Thominewt, dom!Minho, implied - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:10:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2731991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtmasdoesthedo/pseuds/newtmasdoesthedo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hadn’t quite figured out what Minho was into. He didn’t know if he had any interest in any of the boys, he just knew that heated glances were being sent from everyone to Minho and from Minho to everyone – which seemed weird, because he couldn’t have been with everyone, right? Maybe it was just Thomas seeing things because he found himself so attracted to the older boy, and of course there was tension in a place like this. There were no girls after all, no outlet and not a lot of privacy, so it wasn’t like masturbation was something you could do whenever the need hit you. “I’ve just been wondering,” he started, weighing his words and ignoring Minho’s sarcastic “of course you have,” unsure of how to proceed. “How do you guys deal with… uhm. Hormones and stuff?” he asked, unsure if his message was getting through, but also unwilling to specify unless Minho actually asked him to. Which, of course, the shank did.</p><p>“Hormones?” the older boy asked, cocking an eyebrow and sending Thomas that trademark smirk, roaming his gaze over Thomas’ body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Following the map that leads to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amandaeverdeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandaeverdeen/gifts).



Thomas wasn’t exactly sure what it was about Minho that apparently made him absolutely irresistible to anyone in the Glade – or anyone in general. Thomas wouldn’t know since none of them remembered anything from anywhere but here. Maybe it was the arms, maybe it was the way his hair always seemed to be perfectly in place although they were in this godforsaken place. Maybe it was his confidence or the ease with which he strolled around the Glade like he owned the place. Like he’d been here his whole life and would be comfortable anywhere. Maybe it was the powerful strides, the way he moved like a lion on the prowl, or the almost predatory way he looked at someone he wanted, or maybe it was just that he was very tall and very handsome. Either way Thomas didn’t mind running behind him in the Maze, because he was pretty certain that no view could match the view of Minho’s ass and back muscles work as he jogged on. He was determined - Thomas had to give him that. If they hadn’t found a way out yet, they probably wouldn’t. He’d stated and this once, and instantly had a very angry Minho all up in his face for. Not that he minded. Angry Minho was disturbingly attractive when he was angry and Thomas wasn’t one to complain. He enjoyed angry Minho in a way that was a bit worrying, but also very, very hot.  
  
“Time for a break, Greenie.” Minho stated, slowing down to a walk before finally stopping and sitting down against the wall, bringing out a bottle of water and one of the sandwiches Frypan had packed for them. He looked good there, slightly sweaty in the sun, and Thomas couldn’t help but lick his lips looking at the way his biceps flexed when he stretched out the entirety of a strong, muscular body. “Sit down, shuckface,” Minho ordered when Thomas didn’t react right away, and the brunette found himself obeying instantly. “You’re a weird as shuck shank, you know, but you’re being weirder than usual. You have a three minute window to share your shuck feelings, and it’s closing fast. I’m not really into the mushy stuff, so you better use your time well,” Minho smirked, and Thomas cleared his throat, not sure if he actually should.  
  
He hadn’t quite figured out what Minho was into. He didn’t know if he had any interest in any of the boys, he just knew that heated glances were being sent from everyone to Minho and from Minho to everyone – which seemed weird, because he couldn’t have been with _everyone,_ right? Maybe it was just Thomas seeing things because he found himself so attracted to the older boy, and of course there was tension in a place like this. There were no girls after all, no outlet and not a lot of privacy, so it wasn’t like masturbation was something you could do whenever the need hit you. “I’ve just been wondering,” he started, weighing his words and ignoring Minho’s sarcastic “of course you have,” unsure of how to proceed. “How do you guys deal with… uhm. Hormones and stuff?” he asked, unsure if his message was getting through, but also unwilling to specify unless Minho actually asked him to. Which, of course, the shank did.  
  
“Hormones?” the older boy asked, cocking an eyebrow and sending Thomas that trademark smirk, roaming his gaze over Thomas’ body.  
  
“You know what I mean. Don’t be a piece of klunk,” Thomas muttered, and Minho barked out a short laugh and took a big bite of his sandwich, gaze never leaving Thomas as he took his sweet time chewing and swallowing. _I’d rather have him swallow something else._  
  
When he was done he took a big gulp of water and licked his lips. “Getting sexually frustrated already, Greenie? I’m sure we can get you some privacy when we get back,” he mocked, and Thomas glared at him.  
  
He should have known Minho would make fun of him for this; it wasn’t really a surprise. The other Runner had always been sort of a jerk. A very attractive, smart, and responsible jerk, but a jerk nonetheless. It was annoying as hell, that the way Minho winked at him went straight to his crotch the way it did. “Whatever. What do the rest of you do? Has any of you ever…?” He trailed off when Minho started laughing again, and it became evident by the slight tightening of his pants that he was _really_ sexually frustrated already, so he cleared his throat and stood up. “Should we…?”  
  
Minho shrugged and stood up, still smirking, and Thomas wanted to punch him in the face. With his lips. “Sure Greenie, if you feel like we’re done talking about your sexual frustration. I’m sure you could get someone to help you, though. What’re you into? Newt? Alby? Not Gally, please not Gally,” he teased, and Thomas frowned, punching his shoulder.  
  
“Just slim it. I shouldn’t have mentioned this to _you_ of all people,” he huffed, starting to run back towards the Glade at a slow pace. They had plenty of times and he was in no hurry to get back there just to have Minho make fun of him in front of everyone. Minho had become one of Thomas’ closest friends pretty quickly (seeing as he had no one else), but that didn’t change that the shank could be a bit of a dick when he felt like it.  
  
“There’s a reason you mentioned it to me, though,” Minho stated, easily matching his pace and nudging him without even breaking a sweat. How the shuckface managed to be such a pain in the ass so easily Thomas had never figured out. “Want a piece of this, Greenie? I can’t blame you, I _am_ pretty hot,” he smirked, not even batting an eye when Thomas bumped into him on purpose, trying to knock him a bit off balance without putting too much force behind it. He wasn’t interested in Minho getting hurt, but his cheeks were burning and that was probably answer enough for Minho, who stopped and grabbed Thomas’ wrist, almost managing to trip him with the quick movement. “You _do_ want a piece of this, don’t you?” he asked triumphantly while Thomas was focusing on regaining his footing.  
  
The brunette shook his head quickly. “That’s a load of klunk, why would I want a stupid shank like you?” he growled, but even to him his voice sounded slightly weak, and he knew that he was probably still beet red.  
  
Minho’s eyes narrowed a bit, but he was still smirking. “Greenie, when we come back to the Glade, I want to finish up in the Map Room quickly and I’ll show you what we do about sexual frustration here. Now stop being such a whiny shuckface.”  
  
And Thomas wasn’t sure what to read from that - he just knew that he was nervous now, and Minho seemed to enjoy that. He didn’t feel entirely steady on his feet, but he kept running, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other because what else could he do? His heart was pounding as they ran into the Glade and Minho slung an arm around his shoulders, leaning in and breathing against his ear. “Don’t worry, Greenie, I won’t tell anyone.”  
  
His tone was so mocking that Thomas squirmed out from under his arm, glaring at him. “You’re an idiot. Never mind, wouldn’t want to be with a jerk like you anyway,” he groaned, jogging off into the Map Room to get away from Newt’s questioning eyes when they ran past the blond. Minho was being a little shit, and he wasn’t going to be made a fool of in front of the whole Glade.  
  
He ignored Minho while doing the maps, hurrying frantically in the hopes of getting out of here before the Keeper finished up himself.  
  
“You missed something here, Greenie.” Minho stated, moving in behind him and making some corrections, and Thomas hated him for being so close. He hated that Minho had something on him now, because he knew he was going to be teased mercilessly about this. “Sexual frustration makes you sloppy. I can fix that if you’re going to stop being pissy.”  
  
The brunette shuddered slightly. He could feel Minho’s warm breath on the soft flesh of his neck and although they weren’t touching, the heat of Minho’s body was still radiating from him and letting Thomas’ body know that there couldn’t be more than a couple of inches between them. “Slim it, Minho, don’t want your shuck help. You’re the ugliest shank I’ve ever laid eyes upon. I’d rather be with Gally than you, and he looks like a shucking toad.”  
  
That was either a very wrong or very right thing to say, because mere seconds later Thomas found himself pushed up against the map table by a rough movement, Minho’s hips pinning Thomas’ own to the edge of the table, and his arms were pulled behind his back, held together by a single strong hand. “What did you say, Greenie?” Minho breathed against his ear, dangerously low, and Thomas squirmed in his grip.  
  
“I said,” he breathed, hating how much he liked this, “That I’d rather be with Gally the toad face than I’d be with a stupid shank like you,” he managed, surprised with how calm he sounded. “You think you can just smirk and we all line up. I’m not into you,” he claimed, hating that he was once again beet red, his heart pounding and his legs shaking slightly underneath him. Every single word out of his mouth was a lie, of course. He wanted Minho, he couldn’t remember wanting anyone that much, but he wasn’t going to let him in on that. Instead, he just pressed back against him hard, “And don’t call me Greenie.”  
  
The defiance colouring his voice seemed to amuse Minho, because he chuckled and eased the pressure of his hips a bit, leaning in over Thomas’ shoulder and looking at him from the side, prompting Thomas to turn his head. “Sure you’re not.”  
  
The deep, rumbling voice sent a shiver down Thomas’ spine that he would have liked to hide, but didn’t manage to, because Minho was so close. The tight hold on his hands shouldn’t be so hot, and neither should the strong, tight body pressed against him, but he found that he’d lost his words. Instead, he just stared defiantly at him, daring him to do something. And he did. He moved his fingers to grab Thomas’ chin and tipped his head slightly more, moving in so they were millimetres from each other. His breath was hot on Thomas’ lips, and Thomas _knew_ that he was being pathetic, but this whole situation was potent in a way he was pretty certain he’d never experienced before, so before he knew it, he’d breathed out a soft “please,” and then Minho’s lips were on his. “See, Greenie?” the Keeper chuckled, nipping at his lower lip “You could’ve just asked nicely. That way I wouldn’t be forced to do things like this. But I’m getting the feeling that you like it.”  
  
Another shudder ran through Thomas’ body, and he finally gave up being defiantly silent and moaned softly, writhing slightly in Minho’s steel grip, testing out how strong a hold the other boy had on him. That was all the permission Minho needed, it seemed, because the pressure of his hips increased again, and if Thomas hadn’t been turned on before, the combination of a beginning erection pressing against his ass and hot, hard lips on his definitely did the trick. His pants were rapidly growing uncomfortably tight, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop the kiss to tell Minho this, so instead he just whined pathetically under his breath and twisted again, “Minho, lemme turn.” He managed, and another deep laugh was heard. Thomas felt like an idiot, but he also felt extremely turned on, so when Minho loosened his grip on his hands, he turned around quickly and was just about to put his arms around Minho’s neck – until the leader caught his wrists again. He started protesting, but was cut off instantly when Minho started sucking on his neck.  
  
“Shut up, Greenie.” And a hand snaked down to his pants, loosening his belt and cupping him through the Runner underwear that was becoming increasingly tighter, although Thomas hadn’t thought it possible. He wanted to protest being told to shut up, but he couldn’t find the focus because his hips were grinding into Minho’s hand at their own accord. He wasn’t sure how he’d become so frustrated so quickly, but it didn’t matter anymore because right now his mind was a haze of Minho _Minho **Minho**. _ He could smell the musk of the other boy, taste the salt of his sweat on the skin that he was desperately mouthing at, doing what he could not to just take because he was terrified that Minho would suddenly change his mind and decide to mock him instead of applying the perfect amount of pressure to his hardening cock. “Such a needy little shank,” Minho muttered, freeing Thomas completely of his pants and batting the brunette’s fingers away when he tried mirroring the move.  
  
The cool air did nothing to help Thomas’s erection. Instead it just made his whole body shiver and Minho chuckled again, licking up Thomas’s neck before getting to his ear where he nuzzled closer, breathing on the shell of it in a way that made Thomas’s eyes roll back slightly. “Minho,” he moaned, not sure what he should actually ask, just knowing that the way Minho’s fingertips grazed his erection wasn’t nearly enough. Of course Minho was a shucking tease. It shouldn’t surprise him. It didn’t.  
  
“Yes, Greenie? Use your words.” Minho laughed, face still buried in the crook of Thomas’s neck while his other hand had worked its way around him, squeezing his ass a bit harder than he really had to (Thomas didn’t mind it at all, it made his hips stutter slightly against Minho’s clothed leg).  
  
“I,” Thomas started, stopping to moan when one of Minho’s fingers slipped between his cheeks and making his breath stutter. The urge to have Minho in him was weird and irrational because Thomas was pretty certain he’d never done that before, but he wanted him, and the only thing that kept him from saying so was that Minho would probably just be an arrogant prick about it, so instead Thomas moved to lick at his neck, working his hips against Minho’s leg before pressing back towards the finger.  
  
“You what?”  
  
Thomas wanted to punch him. He was certain Minho was going to force him to beg, so he groaned and gave up his ministrations to get the Keeper to move forward on his own.  
  
He moved back, satisfied at least with the marks he’d left on Minho’s neck, and looked him in the eye. “I want you. I want you to fuck me,” he declared, forcing as much confidence into his voice as he possibly could, and he was pretty sure it worked, because Minho looked slightly impressed and grabbed his chin (unfortunately that meant that there were no long, slender fingers ghosting over his cock anymore) and kissed him hard, licking into his mouth without waiting for permission. Goosebumps were spreading on Thomas’ skin. He hadn’t known how submissive he actually was, but then again, how could he? Maybe there was just something about Minho, so he gave up on his dignity this last time and clutched at Minho’s biceps instead, moaning needily into his mouth without trying to conceal how much he wanted it. There was a prominent bulge pressing against his abdomen after Minho had moved closer anyway, so he didn’t doubt that Minho wanted this too.  
  
Once again, he was surprised by Minho’s quick change in moods, because shortly after he was spun around and pushed against the table again, this time being forced almost face first onto it, leaving him feeling exposed and turned on in a weird mix while the other boy was running a warm tongue down his spine slowly. The edge of the table dug into his upper thighs unpleasantly, but his focus was thoroughly led away from that when strong fingers grabbed his buttocks and spread him open to the cool air. He felt his breath hitch, unsure of what was happening, but knowing that he liked it way more than he wanted to admit. “Minho, what are you – ” he started, effectively cut off when something soft and wet was pushing against him, and he sucked in a sharp breath.  
  
“Slim it and enjoy, Greenie, Newt always comes apart in minutes when I do this.” Minho claimed, and then he went silent and Thomas became very, _very_ loud very, _very_ fast, because what could only be Minho’s tongue was pushing into him, and he clutched at the edge of the table with his hands, resting his forehead on the wood and focusing on not pressing his ass into Minho’s face.  
  
“Newt? What are you? Glade slut?” he ground out, fighting to keep his composure but failing utterly in sounding as stern as he wanted to, seeing as a needy whimper tore from his lips seconds later.  
  
The wet hotness left him for a second and an obnoxious pop was heard that was obviously Minho removing his own finger from his mouth. “Does it bother you? Helps easing the tension when the boys get aggressive.” The deep voice informed, and Thomas felt a surge of jealousy run through him that was impossibly mixed with a wave of arousal as he imagined Minho doing this to Newt. _Newt coming hard bent over this very same table, begging for Minho to fuck him. Newt riding Minho. Newt sucking Minho’s cock._  
  
He drew in a shuttering breath. “Who else?” And then the tongue was back and a little while after it was joined by a finger that was slicked with Minho’s spit, working itself into him slowly. He couldn’t stop his hips from bucking against the table and pressing against Minho. He felt like he was already coming apart, feeling himself growing needier and more desperate with every second as images flooded his mind. _Minho doing this to him while Newt sucked his dick. Minho fucking him while he sucked Newt off. Both of them doing this to him._ He was pretty certain these images might kill him if he kept going, so he focused on Minho’s voice.  
  
“Alby once or twice. Only handjobs, though, can’t ever decide who gets to top. Gally before the Changing. Me and Newt do it a lot.” Minho said casually after having moved back, twisting his fingertip upwards inside Thomas in a movement that made him see stars. “You like that, huh Greenie? Maybe Newt and I should take care of you together next time. Newtie is good at sucking cock. I bet you’d be too. I’d love to see you suck him off. He’s filthy when he comes. Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”  
  
And Thomas could do nothing but whimper and grind his hips against the table, squeezing his eyes together hard. In the back of his head, he noted how thankful he was that the Gladers had sanded the table properly so he didn’t get splinters, but it honestly didn’t take up a lot of his train of thought because Minho now had two fingers in him, and he was scissoring them and speaking again, and it was glorious.  
  
“Want me and Newt to take turns fucking you, Greenie? Want to hear him call you Tommy while he’s got that pretty cock buried in you?” Thomas could do nothing but move an arm to rest his face on before he went crazy, and he was snaking a hand down underneath himself, hoping to relieve the tension, but a hand shot out to catch his wrist. “Nuh uh, Greenie. It’s not gonna be that easy. If it’s that easy it doesn’t ease the pressure for a long time. Not that I mind, I could spend hours every day working this pretty little ass of yours.”  
  
Another low whine tore its way out of Thomas’ throat, and he felt tears pool in his eyes from arousal, but there was nothing he could really do, because he was terrified that if he touched himself Minho would just stop. “Please Minho.”  
  
Yet another low, annoying chuckle when the Keeper moved back, taking out both his fingers and muttering, “Please what?” before his tongue returned, and it was amazing but not enough. Thomas needed more than the soft slickness, so he pressed back against him again, fighting to gather his thoughts enough to form anything coherent.  
  
“Please fuck me now.” Another muffled chuckle, and he grit his teeth. “Slim it and fuck me right now, Minho, or I swear to God, I’ll kick your ass.” And it worked like a charm, because a third finger joined the other two when they were pushed into him again, and it was rough and stung a bit, but it was still perfect, and Thomas almost came right then and there when Minho bit at one buttock hard. The seconds dragged on when he was left empty and horny beyond anything he’d ever thought possible, but he heard Minho spit into his own hand a couple of times.  And then it was demonstrated to him effectively that Minho’s arms and hands weren’t the only parts of him that were big. He strained to breathe calmly, trying to relax, but his legs were shaking from the physically exhausting position, and he wanted it too much to be able to relax properly. “Can I please touch myself?”  
  
Minho seemed pleased by his shaky breaths and the tone that communicated effectively that he would do whatever Minho wanted him to. “No. Wanna make you come myself. Maybe I’ll even manage without laying a finger on your dick. How’d you like that, Greenie?”  
  
The mere thought made Thomas’ stomach lurch with arousal, and he whined low in his throat when Minho started pushing into him slowly, having managed to distract him from clenching with his words. His initial instinct was to tense up again, though, something Minho managed to stop by bending over him completely, putting an arm next to Thomas’s on the table and mouthing at his neck. “Relax, Greenie, or this is gonna shucking hurt,” he muttered, moving only when the brunette’s muscles started easing up slightly, only to circle his fingers around his dick and hold them there. “Thought you weren’t gonna work for it?” he asked mockingly, and Thomas silently promised himself to find a way to make Minho pay for being such a tease, but answered with nothing but a moan and worked his hips forward a bit so he could fuck the tight circle Minho had made, managing that way to take him in a bit further for every careful thrust he made.  
  
“There, that’s better, Greenie. Take it easy so you don’t hurt yourself.” Minho warned, and somewhere below the mocking tone there was something careful and slightly protective that Thomas decided to use against him if he ever got the chance to have the upper hand in something like this. “Almost there, Greenie,” he encouraged, and Thomas was honestly surprised he hadn’t made it yet. He’d have to get a good view of Minho’s cock once; it might be because it was his first time, but the length of it seemed truly ridiculous.  
  
He only relaxed when Minho’s soft “there you go” reached his ears and he took a few seconds to breathe, trying to get used to the feeling. It was weird, it stung a bit, but it also felt completely right. Like his body instinctively knew that though it hurt a bit now, it’d be amazing as soon as he got used to it. The other guy had started stroking him slowly now, a brilliant distraction from the slight sting, but Thomas had a hard time standing still when all he wanted to do was fuck himself on Minho until he came (which wouldn’t take long now, judging from the steady, rapid building of heat in his crotch). There was something weirdly comforting about the way Minho’s slim hips were pressed directly to his ass, something reassuring him that Minho was right there and that the Keeper wouldn’t do anything to harm him, but that wasn’t important right now. Thomas would ponder on that feeling later. Right this moment he just felt incredibly horny and desperate.  
  
“Move,” he ended up forcing out.  
  
Minho didn’t have to be told twice. He started moving, and Thomas appreciated the powerful thigh muscles even more now than ever, because the thrusts were long and sharp and controlled, and he had to admit to himself that he was impressed. If he’d been Minho by now he would have lost all sense of rhythm and control.  
  
It didn’t take the Keeper long to push him over the edge, and while Thomas shuddered through his orgasm, Minho kept moving both his hips and his fingers, and seconds after Thomas came down from his own high the older boy reached his climax with a heartfelt moan. If Thomas hadn’t been tired and spent already he would’ve been instantly hard again because Minho’s voice was rough and deep and hoarse, and Thomas caught himself wishing he could see his face.  
  
A couple of seconds of silence passed before Minho pulled out slowly, a shuddering laugh leaving him as he did (and it felt good, feeling his chest rumble against Thomas’s back). “I don’t want to be with you, Minho,” he imitated, and Thomas rolled over as soon as he got the chance, glaring at him.  
  
“Shut up, you cheap shank.”  
  
Minho smirked. “Well, my experience benefited you richly, did it not, shuckface?”  
  
Thomas felt himself colour again and snorted, standing up and looking around for something to clean himself with but failing. He’d have to put on his clothes and wash it when he went for a shower. A shower sounded glorious, actually. The wet clothes would be totally worth this, because his legs were still shaking slightly under him, and he was surprised when Minho handed him his underwear and pants, putting an arm around his waist to support him when he put them on.  
  
“Bloody hell, Minho, we talked about this, this klunk belongs in the Homestead, not the Map Room!” A voice said close to the door. Thomas’s face snapped upwards, and he coloured even more when he saw Newt, a bit thankful that he’d already pulled up his pants. He swallowed hard and looked over at Minho, who was just smirking at Newt and shrugging.  
  
“I was just helping the Greenie out. Right, Thomas?” he asked, seemingly not worried that Thomas was ignoring him in favour of pulling up his pants rapidly.  
  
“Help him out in the Homestead the next time, you bloody shank. If you got anything on the maps Alby will murder you, you know that,” Newt huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, and Thomas shuffled towards the door, ready for his shower. He nodded slightly at the second-in-command, unable to come up with something to say.  
  
He could hear Minho’s smirk in his voice when he left the place. “I think the Greenie would like your help too next time, if you don’t mind.”  
  
He didn’t wait to hear Newt’s answer. He’d find out only days later that Newt definitely didn’t mind.


End file.
